


A Snack for a Dragon

by BlueBoxDetective



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 02:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20056513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBoxDetective/pseuds/BlueBoxDetective
Summary: Prey category. Dean thinks you might be prey to dragons.Suddenly you wish you had just watched a goddamn movie and let Dean deal with this.This work was inspired by the following post (SPOILER):https://www.pinterest.de/pin/360780620145352594/





	A Snack for a Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes I made.
> 
> Supernatural is a trademark of Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., all rights reserved. My story is only shared for the enjoyment of others and is not intended to get myself any advantages or to create the feeling that the characters are my own.
> 
> Trigger Warning (SPOILER) for past rape (mentioned, non descriptive) (SPOILER)

“Nah you can wait here, I’ll deal with it.“  
Dean is about to open the door when you actually process his words.  
“What?!” Is all you manage to call out after him, surprise and shock written all over you face. It had been month since Dean had last gone on a hunt without taking you.  
“You know, you can watch a movie or something. You don’t have enough time for yourself anyway, so, you know, enjoy it.” Dean gives you a crooked simile, but you narrow your eyes at him.  
“I don’t want to watch a movie?!” Anger is boiling up in you, even though you don’t really want to get mad at your dad. His offer is nice, but something is off.  
“Read a book, then.” Dean seems to decide the conversation is over and turns to the door of the small motel room.  
“Dad!” You call after him, and with a sigh Dean stops dead in his track. “I am not letting you hunt that dragon on your own.” Determined you grab your heavy, two sizes too big jacket from the bed and the gun from the nightstand. Dean hates it that you leave it in the open like that, but he has accepted that you do it to feel safe at night.  
“I’ll be alright, it’s just a dragon. And if you would have listened to me, you would know that this gun,” he gestures to you hiding it under your jacket, “won’t even scratch that thing.”  
You shake your head in confusion, ignoring his comment entirely. “Yesterday you argued with Sam and Cas to split up at all and today you want to go on a hunt alone? What’s up, dad? I’m not stupid, I know your hiding something.”  
Dean clenches his jaw and it gives you an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You know that it’s not a good sign, but you refuse to back down now. He is behaving oddly, and you deserve to know why. For everybody’s safety.  
His next words are pressed out between his teeth: “It’s too dangerous. End of discussion.”  
You throw your arms up in the air. “Isn’t that why you are taking me in the first place? To teach me? What the hell, dad?”  
“Don’t use that language!” Dean scolds you, but you just roll your eyes. It is nice of Dean to try, but he knows where you’ve got it from. Most of the time you have a cleaner mouth than him, and that is saying something for a girl in puberty. You stare at him, determined to get him to talk.  
He still grits his teeth when he comes back into the room, swings a chair from the tiny table around and places it in front of you. He sits down and gestures you to do the same. Quickly you let yourself fall back onto your bed, watching Dean expectantly.  
“You have listened to me before, right?” Dean checks and you nod eagerly. You always pay attention when he tells you about new creatures, since the one time you didn’t fully pay attention you had spent three weeks in bed afterwards with a very guilt-ridden Dean taking care of you.  
“Right,” Dean rubs the back of his head, “okay. I meant what I said, it is too dangerous. I will take you with me again the next time, but not when you fall into the pray category of the monster we’re hunting, you hear me? This has nothing to do with you, I promise.”  
You open your mouth, but close it again.  
Prey category. Dean thinks you might be prey to dragons. Dragons eat… Virgins.  
Suddenly you wish you had just watched a goddamn movie and let Dean deal with this.  
“That’s not…” you start but fall quiet again, blood rushing to your cheeks. Dean looks equally uncomfortable as you do.  
“I will be back quickly. I promise.”  
“I’m not going to be in danger,” you blurt out and jump to your feet.  
Dean sighs as he gets up. “I know you will stay with me and everything, but I don’t want to take any risks. I’m going to dangle a snack in front of a monster and hope I can keep it from eating it. You-“  
“Dean!” You interrupt your father, and the use of his first name finally shuts him up. He looks at you and you try to hold eye contact as you state: “I am not in danger. I am not prey to a dragon.” You wonder how you’re even able to still stand upright with all your blood pooling in your cheeks.  
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes you are. You are a pretty fifteen year old girl.”  
You press your eyes shut and take a deep breath. If it weren’t for the fact that Sam and Cas were hunting another monster halfway across the country you wouldn’t even insist on this, but you don’t want to let Dean go hunt on his own. So you try again:  
“Dad, just listen to me when I say: I am not prey to it. Let’s go.” You jump to your feet and try to move past Dean before the words catch up to him. He gets up and grabs your arm before you can even reach the door and you scrunch your nose.  
“What did you just say?” Dean asks and watches you with wide opened eyes. You can’t quite tell if he is in shock or denial.  
Your voice betrays you and you can only mutter: “I am not prey to dragons, dad. Let’s just go.”  
Dean shakes his head violently and pushes you back towards your bed. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you meant!”  
You can’t resist the urge to roll your eyes, even though you know how much Dean hates it when you do that. But just like Dean is getting more furious by the second you get more stubborn. You yell: “You know what it means!”  
Your outburst seems to tip Dean over the edge and he balls his hands into fists as he fumes: “Are you telling me you’re not a virgin anymore right now?! You haven’t even been in a relationship!”  
“Since when has that ever mattered to you?” You shoot before you can think about it. Hurt flashes across Dean’s eyes and you know that was a low blow, since Dean had always tried to teach you to do things differently than he did. Dean seems to deflate like a balloon as all the anger just disappears and gets replaced by disappointment. You flinch at the look he gives you.  
“When?” Is all he asks, but something in your throat renders you unable to answer him. Never in your short life has Dean ever looked so defeated while eyeing you. Some seconds tick by before Dean turns around.  
“Fine. Don’t tell me. Look the door on your way out.” He stomps the few feet towards the door and you swallow, tears burning in your eyes. Dean opens it, but before he can leave you manage to whisper two words:  
“New year.”  
Dean doesn’t move, and for a second you are scared that it might be too late, that he might just leave anyway. A tear drops from your eye and runs down your cheek when Dean closes the door and turns around. After a quick look at your face he walks back over to the chair and sits down, watching you. He still looks disappointed, but not as cold anymore. Slowly you sit at the edge of your bed, fingers clinging to the sheets.  
Now that the first tear has fallen you can’t hold the other ones back, and sadness and shame from the last months rush to the surface. You avoid Dean’s eyes, but you can imagine the confusion on his face.  
“Hey, come on,” he tries quietly, “I… I’m not mad. I just… I just hoped it would be different for you. Hey.” His big hand covers your knee and squeezes reassuringly, “Talk to me, please.”  
His words only lead to more tears and a sob shakes your body. As much as you try to suppress your emotional outburst, you can’t contain it anymore. Before you know it, you are trembling violently and Dean is sitting next to you, pulling you against his chest and patting your back.  
“Dad,” you press out between tears, so quietly you think Dean might not even hear you, “I didn’t want him to.”  
Dean stiffens as the words reach him and he pries you from his chest to look at you. His voice is soft, but insisting when he asks: “What did you just say?”  
“He made me,” you whisper and press your bright red face back to Dean’s chest, hiding in his shirt. For a second, Dean doesn’t move at all, but in the end his hands find their way back to your body and he strokes your hair, waiting out your tears while whispering apologies. Not that Dean was guilty in any way, but you know he always feels responsible when something happens to you.  
It takes a long time, but eventually your tears run dry and your body stops shaking. Dean is the first one to speak again. You can hear the rage in his voice as he asks:  
“Who?”  
You swallow.  
“He said he would kill you all if I told anybody.”  
Again, Dean pushes you from his chest and waits until you look at him, his eyebrows raised: “And you think he could do that?”  
You look away as you mutter: “Probably not.”  
“Then tell me,” Dean insists, and adds, “I won’t let anybody kill me.”  
Two deep breaths later you whisper: “Remember the ghost haunting in Iowa back at new year?”  
“Yes.”  
“And the weird policemen we were working with?” Dean’s grip on your shoulders tightens to a point where it almost becomes painful. His teeth are gritted again as he repeats “Yes…”  
“He… He and his partner brought me to the library, remember? But he… he dropped his partner off before we… before me.”  
“Shit,” Dean curses and jumps up, pacing the room. “Shit,” he yells again and punches his own bed with force, his muscles trembling with anger. Still shaking he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You rub your arm.  
“All right,” Dean finally sighs and looks at you with determination, “let’s go hunting. First a dragon, and then the real monster.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not implying that "hunting the real monster" is the best option in situations like this, but I think that would be Dean's (first) reaction.  
And, to be honest, I really liked the last sentence, so I kept it despite of the controversy it might bring with it.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
